#the pining: part two

[paintedcrows]

It is imperative to me that Bill and Stan do torrid Duchess Approves roleplay and argue about character motivations

[derpwithit]

FIDDLESTAN ENJOYERS COME GET YALLS FOOD

[stump-not-found]

take the parts of me i cannot stand, and replace them with what you can no longer carry

when i look at my reflection, let it be some rotted version of you

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Meant To Be (2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> The day you disappeared from the world.

Disclaimer: This is part two/prequel to Meant To Be. Angst, Fluff, Bucky and Reader having feelings for each other, platonic!Howard Stark, mentions of death, swearing, mourning. Not Proof Read.

You pounded your fist on the front door only to be greeted by Mr Jarvis. 

“Ms Y/l/n.”

“Sorry, Mr Jarvis. I didn’t think you’d be awake yet. Is he here?”

“Still in bed, Ms.”

Jarvis just opened the door wider for you to step inside. “I was just about to take him his morning breakfast.”

“I’m afraid it will have to be on the go this morning, Mr Jarvis.”

“Yes, Ms.”

As you had done for as long as you could remember since meeting Howard Stark, you headed towards his bedroom in order to pull him from his bed. 

“Alright, Stark. Get up.”

Howard just groaned from under the covers. It sounded like he said “Five more minutes,”. 

“Nope. Not this morning. The Colonel has been on my ass all week about you and I’ll be damned,” you pulled the heavy covers from his body. “If I let my ass get reprimanded because of your ass. So, get up.”

Howard groaned again. 

“Mr Jarvis!” You called out behind you. “You wouldn’t happen to have an ice cold pitcher of water by any chance.”

“Why, yes. In fact, I’m just readying Mr Stark one now.”

That got Howard up out of bed. He practically sprang to the other side. “No. You’re not doing that again.”

“Get up when I tell you and I’ll never do it again.”

“I’m up. Are you happy now, sweet cheeks?”

You deadpanned him before throwing the clean washcloth that lay on his bedside table. Howard was known for washing his face first thing before he got out of bed. According to him, it kept him looking “young and attractive,”. 

“Get cleaned up. I’ll be outside.”

Giving Howard a ride into work, you were both greeted with almost all the SSR members hustling around the place. 

“Is something going on today that I’m not aware of?”

“It’s testing day,” Howard told you as he lay his briefcase over the chair in front of him. 

Meanwhile, you were hanging your coat up on the coat rack, taking the space in around you as Howard walked away. But you couldn’t stand comprehending the super soldier in the corner, blushing as Peggy accidentally touched his hand, or the boys everyone knew had lied on their enlistment form but still allowed it anyway, or the ego-centric scientist washing a hand over one of the girl’s asses, for too long. 

Within minutes of you entering the building, Bucky had found you. 

“How long do you think it’ll take today?”

You jumped a little, holding onto your coat on the rack a little tighter. “Jesus- Do you always have to sneak up on me?”

“It’s not my fault you don’t hear me.”

“That’s because you walk as if you’ve got a secret to hide.” Letting go of your coat, you picked your files up from the main desk, Bucky hot on your heels. 

“Not true. Well, maybe a little. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Well, looking at it now…” You and Bucky paused side by side. 

You found that, often when standing together, there was barely an inch of room between you and Bucky. Which, although you were managing to handle, was doing no good for the crush you realised you had slowly developed over the last couple of months. 

He’d just sat there across the desk, looking tired and all kinds of handsome. You’d seen him sitting like that a hundred times or more, but for some reason that night was when your stomach decided to erupt with butterflies. 

But, you were handling it. 

You thought you already had it handled until three days ago when Peggy cornered you in the ladies bathroom. Josie, one of the secretaries, had sauntered her way over looking all perfect and pretty. She’d touched his arm, leaning in close to him. He’s smiled at her and, despite seeing him smile at plenty of girls like that, even recently. For the first time, you’d been jealous. 

It was an ugly emotion and you didn’t like yourself very much for feeling it. Bucky- James. He was your friend. One of your best friends. Someone you could talk to about anything. There wasn’t a single part of you willing to risk that. 

“I’d say we’re a few months away from something actually happening.”

Bucky scoffed. “He’ll ask her out. He just needs a little coaching, that's all.”

“Coaching?” You laughed. “From who? You?”

Bucky seemed a little offended. “I’ve had plenty of successful dates.”

You tried to not let that sting as much as it did. 

“He just needs some confidence.”

You chuckled. “Okay, Romeo. But I know I’m right. And here.”

You pushed a file into his chest. 

“What’s this?” 

You tried to ignore the feeling that erupted inside of you when his hand brushed yours. 

“Your paperwork. I saw you sneak it into my pile last night.”

You continued on walking, Bucky walking a little further behind you.

“You know, if I knew the army contained this much paperwork, I would have had second thoughts.”

You just threw a smile over your shoulder to him, watching as he sat at his desk. 

Steve’s desk was joined onto his, meanwhile, directly diagonal to Bucky was your desk. In front of you was Peggy’s desk. So, although Peggy and Steve would have to turn a little to look at each other, you and Bucky had a direct eyeline to one another. 

Something else that didn’t help the crush you were harbouring on him. 

There was just something…handsome about the way he looked when he was concentrating. In his own little world, flipping and writing between pages. And for a moment, you’d wonder if that is what it would have been like if you’d gone to school together. 

You’d been with him to plenty of museums and tech conventions. You’d seen the true side of Bucky. One that was rarely seen. His nerdy wonder and enjoyment. 

It was barely two hours before Bucky stood and walked over to your desk. He had tried thirty minutes ago but the Colonel had walked by his desk, stopping in front of him since he’d caught him staring at you across the room. 

The Colonel had just hummed, however, before muttering something to himself. 

“Just as bad as the others.”

Bucky had wondered what the Colonel meant, until he followed his next eyeline over to the map desk where Steve was standing with Peggy. 

Then he moved on. 

Bucky knocked on your desk twice to get your attention. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I was wondering if you’d want to come with me on Saturday.”

“Aren’t we working on Saturday?”

Bucky shook his head. “No. We’re both off. There’s a new exhibit being put on at the museum and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

Bucky had attended plenty of museum and tech conventions alone. But his favourite ones were the ones where you’d attend with him. He got to be closer to you. He’d hear you talk about whatever thing you’d been waiting to talk to him about. He got to hear your laugh and by the end of the night, he got to hold your hand. 

You smiled. “You need me to run the ladies off again?”

Bucky chuckled. “Maybe. Just so long as you stay.”

You looked up at him. This man. 

“Okay.”

Bucky smiled. “Pick you up at four?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

That was when a small alarm sounded and Bucky responded to it. 

“I better go,” he said before running off. But then he came back. “Make sure Peggy doesn’t touch my desk.”

You nodded. “I promise.”

Bucky smiled. “See you soon, doll.”

You smiled, watching him jog down the hall and towards the control room. Meanwhile, Howard appeared around the corner. 

“Y/n?”

You knew that look on his face. He needed your help.

“What have you done?”

Standing up, you left your things at your desk and followed him through the building and towards the basement. 

“I haven’t done anything. Well, not yet.”

You sighed. “Show me.”

Entering the room, it was just yourself, Howard and two of his researchers. “The chemical equation is wrong.”

“Don’t you know how to fix it?”

“It doesn’t need to be fixed.”

You looked at him as you examined his machinery. “I understand you’re incredibly smart, Howard. But you’re not making any sense.”

Howard sighed. “The last time I used it, it worked. My math is never wrong.”

“Then change it.”

“I can’t. Any higher and it won’t just melt the machinery, it’ll melt human skin.”

You grimaced at the thought. “You know, if you boys let women do more of the talking, there is a higher chance that war wouldn’t be taking place.”

“Well, right now there’s a war going on in here. Can you…can you help?”

You took a look at his blackboard. 

“It’s not your math.”

“I know that.”

You shrugged. “Have you tested a model of this size before?”

“That’s what today is for.”

“Uh, Mr Stark?” One of the researchers popped their heads up. “I think I might have found our problem.”

You watched as Howard walked over towards the control panel that had been recently forced open. 

“Well- what is that? Oh, jesus. Is that a bolt? What’s it doing-”

As Howard pulled it out, everyone heard a big clunk!

“Is the building still standing?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. 

Howard looked around at the walls and along the floor. Nothing had cracked the concrete. As far as he was aware; the building was still standing. 

“Yep. Must be one of the inner mechanisms. Hand me that crowbar?”

You spun around until you saw the workstation and picked up the rusting metal crowbar. 

“Military issue. Not the prettiest thing in the world, but she gets the job done.” Howard explained as he began to yank one of the side panels off. 

“We figure, if we can make this thing industrial size, we’ll be able to fit it on top of a tank. That way, if it fits on one, it can melt one.” Howard continued to talk as he lay on the floor and practically got inside of the machine itself. 

You crouched down on the floor, peering inside. There had to be at least thirty main electrical wires, feeding some kind of blue and green substance into tubes. 

“You become more peculiar the longer I know you, Howard.”

From his space on the floor, he looked at you and smiled. “Thanks. Pass me that thing, will you, toots?”

Rolling your eyes, you moved behind you and reached for the socket wrench that had been laying on the floor. You handed it to him before standing up and looking around the rest of the machine. 

“Do I even wanna know when you came up with this idea?”

“Uhh.”

Howard was stalling. Usually when he stalled it was because he had been in another tryst with a woman who was most definitely off limits. 

“Alright,” you chuckled. 

Howard sighed. “You know what, you’re always on at me about my…friends.”

“That’s what you’re calling them now? Not production assistants?”

“What about you and Bucky, huh? I see the way you two look at each other. You’re really gonna tell me nothing is going on there.”

“We’re just friends, Howard.”

“Friends, my ass.” Howard lifted himself from the ground to peek out of his hiding place to look at you. You were standing with one heel across the other, a hand on your hip, staring down at him like you were his mother scolding him for doing something wrong in school…again. 

“You and I are friends. No matter how many times I try to make it something else.” He muttered that last part to himself but you heard it anyway and chuckled. 

Howard was a flirt. A shameless flirt. It just so happened that, before Peggy, you were one of the first to let the flirting comments fall. 

Howard disappeared back under the machine for a moment. 

“You and Bucky, however, are not.”

“Howard-”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“Going to a museum.”

“With?” Howard pressed. 

“Bucky.” 

Finally, Howard stood from the ground and looked at you across the console desk. 

“It’s not what you think.”

Howard just smiled. “You and Barnes are going on, yet another, date. You like him. I know, because every time you look at him, you get the same goofy look in your eyes that Mr Jarvis does when he looks at his wife.”

You tried to hide your embarrassment, but it only seemed to come out as annoyance against Howard. 

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. And, I also know,” Howard was moving around the console towards you. “That Bucky has deep feelings for you.” 

Howard was standing in front of you. He didn’t have to raise his voice anymore. 

“He likes you, Y/n. And we’re at war. I don’t like thinking like that, but there’s no escaping the truth. We’re at war and a lot more people are gonna be losing their loved ones. Maybe it’s about time you took a chance with yours.”

You just stared at Howard. He had a point. 

“He’d be lucky to have you.”

You took a breath before turning away. “I thought we were down here to start testing, not discuss my…that.”

Howard smiled. “You know I’m right,” he practically sang as he walked away, wielding his wrench like a conductor. 

Ten minutes later, everything was seemingly ready. 

As one of the other researchers left to go and get the Colonel, Howard started the controls up so everything would be ready by the time people arrived. 

Only, as Howard started flicking buttons, you stood up. 

“Howard.”

Something was beginning to shake in the room. 

“Is it meant to be doing that?”

“No…”

Howard moved around the panels to take a look at the dials. Everything seemed normal. 

Then it started to shake even more. 

It was almost like your washing machine had been set onto a fast spin, but this time you were inside of the rattling machine. 

“Howard!”

“I’m on it.”

“What can I do?”

Howard didn’t answer you, but it didn’t matter. Because within seconds, the arm of the machine started going haywire and as Howard yelled at everyone to get down, you felt the wind get knocked out of you. 

As Howard finally shut down the machine from the inside, tearing at one of the wires, the building stopped shaking and the Colonel, along with Peggy, ran inside. 

“Stark! What the hell is going on?!” The Colonel yelled. 

“I wish I could tell you.” Howard stood, his legs still shaking from the movement in the floor. “Something must have come loose.”

“What the hell is that?” 

Peggy pointed and everyone looked at what it was. A smattering of blue dust and what could only be described as a bullet exit wound, cracking into the concrete wall. 

More people joined, running inside asking questions but fell silent when they saw the damage. 

Cracks along the walls, machinery and different liquids on the floor, and a large crack in place of where you had been standing. 

“Y/n? Where’s Y/n?”

“Stark! Where is my Agent?!”

“I…I don’t…” Howard was in shock. 

Peggy sprang into action. Maybe you hadn’t been hit. Maybe you’d taken cover or not been in the room at all. People started following her orders to find you. 

“Stark, where is my agent?” The Colonel asked as he approached him. “Now, she better not be dead or else I’ll have your neck for this.”

Howard shook his head. “You need a body to be dead.”

They both knew that to be true, but considering the fight they were having with Red Skull and a Super Soldier, it was quite plausible to have a death without a body. 

Meanwhile, down one of the hallways, Peggy ran into both Bucky and Steve. 

“Hey, what the hell was that shaking-”

“Have you seen Y/n?”

“I thought she was with Howard.”

Peggy shook her head. “Something went wrong.”

“What went wrong?”

“We, uh, we don’t know yet. But I just…”

As Steve took Peggy by the shoulder, Bucky made a run for it down to Howard’s lab. He saw the Colonel sat with Howard, but his commander quickly stood up and walked over to him. 

“Barnes-”

“Where is she? What happened to her?”

“We’re still trying to figure that one out.”

In the days that followed, Bucky didn’t know his head from his feet. He’d just spoken to you that morning. You were meant to be meeting him for dinner that evening. He was meant to be taking you out that Saturday. 

Nobody could bring themselves to clear away your desk. It was just how you’d left it. Open files, half finished paperwork, scrap pieces of paper with ideas and things written down. 

But when the Colonel got word someone was coming in to replace you, he went to one person. 

“Son?”

It was after hours and Bucky was yet to leave his desk. Mostly, his eyes had been focused on your desk, where you should have been sitting, scolding him for staying too late because it meant you had to stay late. Then he’d tell you, you didn’t have to stay, to which you tell him you wouldn’t let him work alone. 

Bucky looked up and saw the empty box in his arms. 

“Someone needs to clean out her desk and I think it should be you. They’ve got a replacement coming tomorrow.”

Bucky swallowed down his fear; accepting you were gone for good. And he took the box. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss, son.” The Colonel held his shoulder as he stood up. “I know she meant a lot to you. You meant a lot to her, too.”

The Colonel had seen the red, tearful eyes of Bucky for the last few days. The dejected look each time he looked up and found your desk empty, the bow of his head as he’d hide his face every time someone said your name. 

It had taken both the Colonel and Steve to pull him from Howard’s throat. 

And now he was left to clear out your desk. 

And for a while, he managed to keep his emotions in check. Sweeping away your files, adding them to his pile to finish for you. Clipping all your notes together, cleaning away the ink stains of your fingerprints by the edge of your desk. 

Then taking the pictures from your desk, seeing your smiling face, placing them inside the box. 

Then he found a key. 

Bucky had pulled out your chair and sat down before opening up the locked drawer of your desk. That’s when all control over his emotions left him. 

Inside, along with some more of your personal belongings, was a notepad. Each date had been crossed off, as had the things listed under it. Except for the one that you had started at the beginning of the week. 

It was all the things you wanted to talk to him about; at dinner, walking home, and on Saturday. You made a list so you wouldn’t forget or accidently leave anything out. 

And for a second, he smiled. 

Then he cried. 

You’d never get to talk to him about these things. He’d never hear your voice again. He’d never see you smile or roll your eyes or scoff or hear you yell at him. He’d never hear you laugh again.

It was hours before he left your desk and went home, keeping your box of things under his bed in case you came back. Howard was adamant that you would. The blast wasn’t strong enough to kill, but it was strong enough to melt. But, he hadn’t made it to melt human skin. 

So you shouldn’t have died. 

You couldn’t be dead. 

You had to be alive…somehow. 

And that was the thought, for as much as he wanted to kill Howard, Bucky kept with him. 

That you were still out there, somewhere, and that you’d come home. 

But the longer time went on, the harder that idea was to accept. 

People started to mourn in their own ways. Mr Jarvis and his wife set out your favourite flowers on their dinner table on your birthday. The same flowers Howard started growing in his garden a week after you had disappeared. The Colonel had sent Peggy to make sure the gravestone issued for you was just right. Nothing too fancy; after all, there was still hope you’d come back. Steve, along with the other Howling Commandos, raised a toast in your honour. 

But when the day came that Bucky fell from the train…

Only one thing made him smile. And that was that he’d get to see you again. 

[voidofthevoidmv]

Technically the 3rd installment but tahdah- Part 2 of Stan and the AXOLOTL. What could go wrong? Featuring: Little Stanley feeling bad about himself! And what could possibly be to come… We will figure THAT out in the next one…

Sorry am I? Nah.

PREVIOUS

NEXT

FIRST

[nenoname]

"And now I know why! He hates me!"

[emmabirb8]

It really is SO funny (and meaningful, actually, if you think about it) to me that Stanley was the only member of the Pines family who was never able to be manipulated by Bill.

Stan's paranoia and distrusting attitude served him in the best way possible. Yeah, it sucks that he was basically cut off from forming lasting positive relationships up until he moved into Ford's shack in Gravity Falls, but MAN, that was kind of a small price to pay when you realize he unknowingly kept himself protected from one of the most dangerous entities in all of space-time by having that mindset and keeping his walls up all those years.

Can you imagine how fucking disastrous things could've turned out if Bill had gotten to him? Successfully infiltrated Stan's dreams, utilized his connection to Ford to his devious advantage as a bargaining chip, and used Stan for all he's worth to orchestrate Weirdmageddon his way? Ford spent 30 years hiding from Bill, constructing the quantum destabilizer, and putting all his energy into taking him out - to prevent him from meddling in the lives of those he cares about and to protect the world from his evil.

But it turns out, all you really have to do to foil Bill is just... not be swayed by him in the first place. There was NO combination of words in the human vocabulary Bill could have said to get Stan on his side at any point in the story, and tbh that's fucking hilarious.

Get fucked little man, you got outsmarted by the '''lesser''' twin, and he didn't even have to put any effort into it at all.

(And as the icing on the cake, he wrecked your sorry ass too. Smashed you to smithereens in one second flat.)

Truly tho, I think Stan is Bill's match. His equal opposing force. The yin to his yang. Essentially, when put together, they cancel each other out, lmao.

And I just know Bill will be forever haunted by that old man. He can make all the pitiful attempts to reach out from the Theraprism all he wants, but even if he were to escape someday, somehow, there is no coming back from that level of pure humiliation. 🤣

[bobbinfire]

Don't worry the mood gets much better after they get to talking about history and the supernatural. I imagine they would be good friends.

Bonus under cut:

Meanwhile, outside...

Somewhat continuation of this post

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part two ]

[ a continuation of part one ]

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw

word count: 1875

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

in any other circumstances, you wouldn’t even dare to imagine holding a man you had just met the same day.

but stan … was different.

when your eyes first locked with his from across the counter, you could tell that he was hurting, and badly. he was trying so hard to cover it up, and it worked for the most part — after all, up until now, nobody had cared about him enough to see through his facade.

but you saw straight through him. and not only that, you actually did something about it. you offered to care for his needs, at your own expense.

his father only ever saw him as an expense.

so, there you were, sitting at the bar, holding onto the maroon fabric of his jacket as he trembled like a leaf.

the scent of cigarette smoke and pine needles was strong in your nose as he buried his face into your shoulder. you could feel his stubble scratching against your skin.

there was a part of you that wanted to speak up and comfort him, but ultimately you decided against it. you didn’t quite know enough about him to be able to speak to his situation.

after a few minutes, stan seemed to be calming down. his breathing became even, although he was still clinging onto you tightly.

“i …”

his voice was cracked and raspy.

“i … screwed up. i don’t … know how i’m gonna fix it.”

your brow furrowed as you listened to him.

“y’know, stan … i don’t know what you’re going through. but can you do me one favor?”

“... yeah?”

“look at me.”

slowly, the brunet lifted his head, pulling himself back just enough to be able to look at you. his eyes were red and puffy, but his gaze was sincere.

you looked back at him, determined. “i’m gonna help you out.”

stan didn’t know how to react. he swallowed a lump in his throat, scanning your face as if to check whether you were lying to him or not.

“... you don’t … hafta do that. i brought it on myself—”

“i don’t care.”

his eyes widened.

“if i can keep somebody from a worse fate, then i’ll do it. let me give you a place to stay, even if it’s just for a little while.” you smiled warmly, squeezing his arm for emphasis. “you shouldn’t have to feel like your life means nothing.”

“… you’re an angel.”

those words made you blush. “i–i wouldn’t say that—”

uh-oh, he’s smirking now. chuckling lowly, he let go of you so that he could cross his arms over his chest.

“what, are you tryna tell me you’re not sent from heaven? think about it. you’re saving my biscuits here, toots.” there was serious gratitude in his tone, despite his teasing. at least he seemed to be in a better mood. “i think i’ll hafta call you that more often, yeah? angel.”

you laughed nervously, trying desperately to distract yourself from your red hot face. “really? h–how interesting …”

stan snickered again, gazing at you for a moment longer with fondness dancing in his brown eyes. then, glancing at the wall clock, he realized the time. “damn, it’s midnight. i should probably stop bothering you ‘nd get to bed, huh?”

“huh, it is late … i should sleep, too.”

“then it’s decided. i’ll see ya tomorrow.” he hummed, standing from his seat and stretching out his arms before cracking a soft smile and turning around to walk towards his room.

you were left to watch him leave, your eyes following his footsteps as he made his way back up the staircase.

approximately eight hours later, you awoke to the sunlight gently filtering through your bedside window, causing your eyelids to flutter open.

the events of last night came flooding back into your mind.

i guess i’ll be seeing a whole lot more of him …

sitting up in bed, you yawned, rubbing your face sleepily.

“mm … what time is it …”

the alarm clock on your nightstand read 8:02 am.

shoot, i overslept—oh, wait. it’s my day off.

that little fact was enough to put you in a good mood for the morning. humming happily to yourself, you began to get ready for the day, picking out a comfortable outfit and a few accessories.

descending two flights of stairs, you wandered into the lobby of your inn, greeting a few different patrons and employees with a cheerful wave. it was breakfast rush hour for the kitchen, and you could catch glimpses of your executive chef running to and fro behind the bar.

he seems pretty busy today. maybe i’ll grab a bite to eat somewhere? hmm, but the question is where …

just then, your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name.

you whipped around to locate the voice’s source, and there was stan, walking towards you at a leisurely pace. a radiant grin broke out on your face.

“stan! hey, good morning! how’d you sleep?”

raising a brow, he chuckled at your energy. “well, good morning, sunshine. i slept like a baby, thanks t’ you.”

“ah, don’t mention it.” you smiled, placing your hands on your hips. “i’m just glad you could sleep.”

the two of you looked at each other for a second.

why did his stare make you feel butterflies in your chest?

probably unimportant ………… right? yeah.

clearing your throat, you averted your gaze before you started to blush again. “so, um … have you had anything to eat yet?”

“nah. i was just about to, though.” to be frank, he had totally forgotten that he had access to breakfast until you just mentioned it.

“sounds goo–”

you paused mid-sentence, remembering something.

“actually … i was planning on eating out for breakfast today. would you wanna join me? since the kitchen is bustling and all …”

oh, wow. did you really just ask him out to breakfast? it didn’t hit you until after you had said it out loud that it could be considered that way. oops. was that weird? were you weird? augh.

stan had half a mind to tease you senseless for how cute that was, but after thinking about it, he decided against it. he wouldn’t wanna ruin his chances at having breakfast with you.

“you kiddin’? i’d love that.” he nodded his head, flattered and amused. “not many people can say they’ve had breakfast with an angel, ya know.”

your ears turned red.

i walked right into that one. darn you and your smooth talking …

“oh, let’s just go already.” embarrassed, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him along towards the front door. stan laughed heartily, allowing himself to be led.

it wasn’t long before you arrived at one of your favorite diners in town, known for their homey atmosphere and good breakfast. walking into the building, you were met with the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee. the two of you breathed it in simultaneously, sighing.

“reminds me of breakfast as a kid.” stanley mused, thinking of the days when he and ford would poke at each other’s food and giggle. you smiled, watching his expression.

“c’mon, this way.” you beckoned him over towards the table you usually sat at, and a familiar waitress walked over to you as you settled in.

“good morning, loyal patron~ i see you’ve brought a plus one today, yes?”

“uh—yes. don’t go jumping to conclusions, though …”

the waitress grinned innocently. “of course. now, what can i get for you two?”

stan wound up ordering pancakes with bacon and eggs, while you settled on some waffles and a mug of coffee. you could have sworn you saw that waitress giggling to her coworker about something as she went on her way, but you shook your head to yourself in an attempt to ignore it. instead, you directed your attention towards the man sitting across from you.

“so, i’m guessin’ you’re a regular here?” he tilted his head, leaning back against his seat. there was a smirk plastered onto his face that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“you would guess correctly.” you hummed, picking up the salt shaker on the table and fidgeting with it absentmindedly. “have you ever been?”

a rumbling sigh escaped his lips.

“nah … i’m not exactly from around here.”

your gaze was trained on him. so far, he’s kept a laid-back demeanor, not to mention that little smirk that drives you insane—but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was way more depth to his character than he let on.

“yeah? where’re you from?”

“...”

there was a brief silence. his chocolate brown eyes, warmly lit by the sun, stared into your soul.

“i’m from new jersey.”

your eyebrows shot up. “from jersey? wow … you’re far from home, then.”

“it’s not home anymore.”

you opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again. stan was staring out the window, a frown creasing his face.

“i … sorry. sensitive topic?”

he turned back to you, a faint blush appearing on his face. “uh … well, yeah, i guess … it’s okay.”

“come again?”

“... it’s, uh—i–i’m okay, if it’s you.”

he was a darker shade of red now, scratching awkwardly at his stubble. he felt so … vulnerable. but somehow, he was okay with it.

at that moment, the waitress came back with plates of food. “order up!”

you watched as you were served, salivating as you saw golden waffles covered in butter and syrup smiling up at you. it didn’t take long for the both of you to start digging in.

“... wow.” after the first few bites, stan had stars in his eyes. “it tastes just like ma’s.”

“was your mom a good cook?”

he snorted. “well, she wasn’t exactly a michelin star chef, but she could make some damn good flapjacks. at least, i sure thought so.” putting another forkful of pancake into his mouth, he chewed thoughtfully. you simply propped your head on one hand, watching.

“i always told her she could sell ‘em for a fortune.”

his tone was soft with nostalgia.

“she just laughed. prob’ly cause i was five when i told her that.”

“they must’ve been really something, huh?”

“they were. all my life, i dreamt of selling somethin’ as good as that. i haven’t stopped trying, either.”

he scoffed.

“most of ‘em have been a bust.”

you hummed softly in understanding.

“you’re still trying, though. that’s worth more than any failed effort.”

he looked up from his plate. “... you think so?”

“sure i do.” lifting your mug, you took a sip of coffee. “perseverance is worth a lot.”

stan could barely handle your uplifting words. his heart was squeezing in his chest. covering his flustered face with one hand, he leaned against the table, grumbling.

“... an angel … God sent an angel.”

“what?”

“what? nothing.”

a few hours later, you were walking side by side back to the inn. stan couldn’t help but admire the way the fall breeze tousled your hair, and the gentle smile on his face was speaking his thoughts out loud.

he’d never known that somebody this beautiful could even exist.

maybe ...

maybe he hasn’t hit rock bottom quite yet.

end

[ part three ]

author's note:

thank you for all the love on this fic !!! :D

i gotta keep cooking.

if you have any fic or headcanon requests, hit up my askbox! <3

tag list: @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @seahorrorz @blustalker @hay-needle @phanmai1002

[chickenchirps27]

gravity falls hyperfixation so bad that i started drawing the divorce in crayon

[pinklotushere]

Perfect Disaster

Dick loved Jazz. He really did. She was incredible—strong, smart, funny, and probably the only person on Earth who could keep up with him in a spar without wanting to throttle him. She got his jokes, finished his sentences, and punched him in the arm whenever he got too smug.

They were supposed to be perfect for each other.

So why was he in love with Dan?

Why had his wedding day been filled with flashes of ice-blue eyes and a voice that always sounded just a little too unimpressed?

Why did his stomach drop every time he thought about Dan looking at him with something almost like affection, only to turn away like it had never been there?

It was driving him insane.

And Jazz—God, poor Jazz. She was so good, so devoted, so present, and Dick? Dick was the worst husband alive.

He’d caught himself zoning out during dinner last week, staring at his fork like it was the most interesting thing in the world, because Jazz had mentioned something in passing, and his brain had gone straight to how Dan would never say something like that. Dan doesn’t talk that much. Dan doesn’t talk at all unless he had to.

Jazz deserved better. She deserved someone who wasn’t actively fantasizing about her brother at the worst possible moments.

And worst of all?

She had no idea.

He was a such horrible person

Jazz was losing her mind.

She was in love with her husband. She knew she was. Dick was amazing—bright and loud and brilliant, always moving, always there. He made her laugh, he made her feel seen, he made life fun.

So why was Jason the one she thought about late at night?

Why was it his voice that echoed in her head when she had a bad day? Why did she find herself catching her breath when he smiled, when he laughed, when he looked at her like she was something worth knowing?

It was awful. It was disgusting. It was—

It was fine. She’d bury it. She’d ignore it.

Dick loved her. She loved Dick. Everything was fine.

Except…

Except Dick had been distracted lately. Not in the normal “up all night on patrol” way. No, this was different.

He was off.

He’d started spacing out in the middle of conversations, looking guilty when she caught him. He’d smile too wide, laugh too loud, cover up whatever he was thinking with that performance of his, but Jazz knew him too well.

Something was wrong.

She wanted to ask, but she didn’t. Because if she asked, maybe he’d ask back. Maybe he’d say why are you acting weird too? Why do you freeze when Jason calls? Why do you look at him like—

No. No, she wasn’t going to think about that.

Everything was fine.

Things got worse.

Dick started overcompensating.

Big romantic gestures, flowers, expensive dinners, soft kisses on her forehead, murmured I love yous like he was trying to convince himself they were real.

Jazz responded in kind.

Lingering touches, doting smiles, playing the role of the perfect wife because God help her, she was going to make this work.

And in their desperate attempts to fix a problem neither of them had named, they didn’t notice what was happening right in front of them.

Didn’t notice the way Dick’s eyes always strayed when Dan was in the room, how his voice softened just slightly when they spoke.

Didn’t notice the way Jazz’s breath hitched when Jason laughed, how she leaned in just a little too much when he talked to her.

Didn’t notice that they were both drowning, clinging to each other in a sinking ship, hoping that if they just held on tight enough, they wouldn’t go under.

And it was only a matter of time before the whole thing collapsed.

It all came crashing down over brunch.

Dick had been jittery all morning, bouncing his leg under the table, stirring his coffee five times before taking a sip. Jazz had been the same, shoveling food into her mouth like it might stop her from blurting out something catastrophic.

They were a mess. A mutual, collective disaster.

And then—

"Jazz, I—"

"Dick, I—"

They both stopped, blinking at each other. Jazz swallowed, setting her fork down.

"You first," she said, voice tight.

Dick inhaled sharply. This was it. This was the moment he ruined everything.

"I'm—" He scrubbed a hand through his hair, bracing himself for impact. "I'm in love with someone else."

Silence.

A long, heavy, horrifying silence.

And then—

"Oh thank God," Jazz blurted out, nearly knocking her coffee over.

Dick blinked. "What?"

"I'm in love with someone else too," she said, her shoulders sagging like someone had finally lifted a hundred-pound weight off her back. "Oh my God, Dick, I thought I was the worst person alive, I was so scared to tell you—"

"You were scared?" Dick let out a laugh, giddy with relief. "Jazz, I have been dying inside for months. I was ready to take this to my grave!"

"Me too! I literally almost repressed myself into a coma!"

"Jesus Christ," Dick groaned, pressing his forehead to the table. "I thought I was going to break your heart."

"I thought I was going to break yours!"

They both sat there, laughing, light-headed, free.

A moment passed before Jazz smirked, leaning forward. "So. Who is it?"

Dick hesitated. And then, because there was no point in lying anymore—

"Dan."

Jazz's smirk vanished. Her eyes widened. "Wait—my Dan?"

"Uh." Dick winced. "Yeah?"

She blinked. Then blinked again. Then—

"Oh my God."

"What?"

"Oh my God, how could we not see it before?" she muttered, rubbing her temples.

Dick frowned. "Wait. See what? What does that mean?"

Jazz took a deep breath, and then—

"I'm in love with Jason."

It took a second for that to register.

Then—

"MY Jason?!"

Jazz shrugged, unapologetic. "Apparently."

Dick gawked at her. "No way."

"Yes Way."

"Oh my God."

"Right?!"

For a long, long moment, they just stared at each other.

And then—

They started laughing.

Deep, gut-wrenching, gasping-for-air laughing. The kind that hurt. The kind that felt like they were unraveling years of tension in one go.

"How did we not notice?" Jazz wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I have no idea!" Dick gasped. "I was so busy feeling guilty, I didn’t even think to ask why you kept getting all weird around Jason!"

"And I was so caught up in my own disaster," Jazz snorted, "I didn’t even see you staring at Dan like he personally invented the concept of breathing!"

They both dissolved into laughter again, until finally, finally, the weight of the past few months lifted completely.

Jazz leaned back in her chair, still chuckling. "So. What do we do now?"

Dick hummed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Well. We could get a divorce."

"Obviously."

"And then we could—y'know. Maybe—try something else?"

Jazz smirked. "Are you asking me if we should ask each other's brothers out?"

Dick grinned. "I mean. I feel like we kinda have to at this point."

Jazz snorted. "God, we are such disasters."

"Yeah," Dick agreed, still grinning.

They clinked their coffee mugs together like it was a toast and for the first time in a while didnt feel the overwhelming weight of lying to your patner.

Somewhat Inspired by EDA's beautiful art, Thank you, @demonic0angel , for being so ridiculously creative and talented that I can’t even sit back and enjoy your work in peace.

No, instead, you had to go and make me feel creative too, and now I have the unbearable urge to post things. I hope you’re proud of yourself.

[renmorris]

There needs to be an incest shipper-free space to talk about the similarities between Bill and Stan and what that means for Billford, because I feel this is a discussion that canon is already having that fandom is too nervous to acknowledge.

That’s a shame because it’s very realistic and is in my opinion crucial to understanding the components at play in his relationship with Bill.

So let’s talk about it!

Ford and Stan grow up in an abusive household, are minorities, are poor, are isolated from other children and develop an overly dependent relationship. This is very textbook we all know this, the show addresses this dynamic openly though only Stan says it out loud.

They separate.

Ford is taking to it better than Stan but still lacks the niche in his life that Stan played. Fiddleford is not really a substitute for that, he’s his own person. He (later) has a family of his own.

Bill fits the shape that Stan left behind, he’s boisterous, he enflames his ego, he encourages him, he makes him feel accepted and cared for. They’re the same personality down to the nicknames. And my god TBOB, really stresses the nicknames. Sixer is only used by Bill and Stan once in the entire show. The book is asking you to notice this.

Ford isn’t only naïve and vulnerable without Stan, he’s lonely. There’s a hole in his life that he pretends isn’t there because he has to make himself hate his brother.

Bill can fit into that place and Ford can love him for it and tell himself that no one has ever understood him like this. What they have has to be fate.

As Bill manipulates him the unfair caricature of Stan that lives in his head becomes even more warped, a thoughtless and childish burden. He seems like something that could never be compared to Bill, this force in his life that only works to lift him up.

It’s all very realistic. Seeking to replace a familial relationship with a romantic one isn’t unheard of. We all know this, usually it’s in a cruel joke about young women who look for men who remind them of their fathers. Here it’s a component of a story that’s asking you to take it seriously as tragedy.

[mobius-m-mobius]

loki in season two // mobius in season one (insp)

[sceebybeeby]

⚠️the book of bill spoils, blood⚠️

"Hey, brother, it's Sixer."

[voidofthevoidmv]

Uh oh Fordsie, your parents are acting awfully strange… The second installment of the 3 Buck Stan AU and our six fingered munchkin comes into play. Wonder what will come of that lol… I have a good idea on what will come next in this series/au, although I’ll likely be slow to post due to procrastinating- yk how it is lol. But yeah… next segment will probably get back to Stan and Mx Lottie’s nonsense as we finally get into the swing of things. It’s gonna be great, trust.

PREVIOUS

NEXT

[ahkylous]

Early days